Not Strong Enough,

Celebratory chapter! Why? Because I set myself a goal of 100k words written in the Month of June (it was a challenge from the Temple of Kraden for the writers) AND I DID IT. I DID IT TODAY.

Maybe I can hit 110? Who knows, but you guys get an update!

To Make Things Right

Revising the Plan

Kyoura, the regenerating beast who had claimed divinity as a god of war: he had been a fire bird. But it had not been the same breed of phoenix as the ones invading the Western Lands. Kyoura had been overwhelmed by energy and torn to pieces, that didn't work on these creatures.

There were only three ways to kill their kind. To slice them and throw their scattering ashes into the storm's fury was one, made easier by the persistent howl of the wind as the night-time thunderstorm refused to blow itself out all at once. The other was to submerge the ashes in moving water and let the currents do the job of smothering and separating the residual heat. The rain was not good for this, but Sesshoumaru didn't care about those first two methods. Not tonight.

Because the third was to attack the birds until they disintegrated into ash, and then before they could reform-

"Tenseiga." -scar their spirits with the healing blade. Only the strongest birds in the flock survived this and were able to rebirth from the ashes they had created, but they were quick to learn that their immortality was effectively gone after that. They fell to his claws and temper as soon as they reformed that final time, mortal and in grave danger.

Moving with or against the wind as it pleased him in battle, he had not seen nor sensed Fujin again, and Tenseiga gave no indication that its patron was still anywhere within the black sky. But it didn't matter, Sesshoumaru didn't need the wind's aid as he ripped his claws down the side and back of a slow demon- his nose had fooled him, Ryokijin was not here.

These were soldiers, but they were few and young: a scouting party. These were not lands Sesshoumaru needed to defend, it was his pride on the line as he chased down one fire bird that stank more strongly of salt than the others. Its true form was not much larger than the Demon Lord's compact human body, but Tenseiga flashed through the air once it became clouded with ash- a dull red haze appearing where the bird's spirit was fighting to collect itself and run away.

Their cries were irritating to him, his ears stinging whenever one or more managed to reach a certain frequency of fear and panic. As he dealt with the scout beneath him another, slightly older, bird whipped around and shed its true form; a long naginata appearing between the phoenix's hands as he made a desperate bid to distract the Demon Lord. Did he want his compatriots to flee and send word to their own lord about this upset? Very well, but Sesshoumaru would not allow himself to send more than one messenger.

"Ryokijin!"

"Do not utter that name in my presence." Like any polearm, naginata had a wider range of attack than the sword the Demon Lord held in his right hand, but in the air this advantage was difficult to use if unprepared or simply out-matched. Sesshoumaru didn't even dodge the sword-blade as it swung around on the edge of the phoenix's staff, planning his course of attack around and from below the incoming bird and then following through without thought. He knew the weapon would not come near him, and was not proven wrong before Tenseiga moved effortlessly through the exposed back of his opponent's neck. There was no blood, and the phoenix tried to cover his stunned shock by twirling the bladed staff back around over his head and aiming a desperate sweep at the Demon Lord. Sesshoumaru simply lopped off the offensive arms with his whip and then sped forward through the air, plunging his claws into the eyes of the frightened bird. The poison completed any work the stab itself did not accomplish.

In the dark high above the forest it was not difficult to feel the heat and see the light of fire before it reached him, several phoenixes still remaining as Sesshoumaru fed his rage into his body and allowed himself to phase out of sight before reappearing. Tenseiga and a lash of electric-green light finished off the female who had so wrongly attempted to strike him from behind.

So Ryokijin was not opposed to letting his women into battle? Had his supposed rival not enough men to fill his ranks? Shameful.

The one he decided not to kill was caught out of the air by his hand. Her red cuirass was worn and looked second-hand, white sleeves and pants marking her as some being of lower rank. He found this suitable, his claws held back from piercing her throat as he instead grabbed the phoenix by her long, tightly bound red hair. The Demon Lord needed merely roll his body over in the air to build up the proper momentum, releasing the small demon at break-neck speeds to strike the ground many dozens of yards below the battle. The one who dove after her was struck by Tenseiga and scattered, dead, the last one left to defend the Phoenix Lord's honour was impaled on Sesshoumaru's claws, the Healing Blade banishing his soul to the afterlife.

'I am not satisfied.' No, as he found himself now out of opponents to kill, the Demon Lord was not ready to finish fighting. There was too much rage in him to simply rest idle, his anger too fresh and pride severely wounded: he could not search for Kagura yet. He would wait for her to return, and in the meantime he would accomplish his goals as Demon Lord. Sesshoumaru didn't even want Jaken right now, he didn't want to reclaim his lands yet: he wanted to destroy the phoenixes, all of them, especially their leader.

'He touched what was mine.' His Kagura, no one else's. 'He followed her, harassed, chased her.' It had not caused his woman fear; she was not weak enough to rely on another, even if it was him, that strongly. But it was still harassment. 'He watched her, touched her things- replaced my gift.' Touching Kagura's property was the same as touching her flesh. When Ryokijin replaced the comb, had he rifled through her clothing? Had he run his hands down what caressed and covered her body? Had he searched for her scent, fresh off her skin?

'Everything he values, I will destroy.' It was a vow, it was silent but it was true. 'Every life he has touched, I will end. Every joy he has felt, I will spoil.' Sesshoumaru was accused of being unfit, ignorant of his mate and her needs. She had expected him to destroy Ryokijin, to defend her honour, and he had waited so he could gain the tools necessary for reclaiming his lands instead. He should have regained Tenseiga and then gone immediately after the phoenix, Jaken could have waited. Sesshoumaru had been manipulated: become predictable to an opponent who had felt no danger approaching his woman in her most vulnerable state.

It was a slight and insult to them both, Sesshoumaru bearing the greater shame because it was his responsibility to defend what was his. If he could not do that, then he was not fit to have a mate. He was still too young. Too inexperienced. It was the same thing his mother had said before their brief encounter had turned violent: he should never have been struck and poisoned by a demoness whose tactics he knew so well.

He made his decision and quickly began moving through the storm, aware that the winds were weakening and the tension in the sky was draining. Sesshoumaru set his course back into the Half-breed's lands and sought the highland cliffs with his eyes, looking for the place where he had left Jaken and Un. He didn't care about the toad, he didn't want the Nintoujou, he didn't need Un-

He wanted that comb. And if he couldn't find Kagura's gift there, Sesshoumaru would rake Bakusaiga and Tenseiga together through every ounce of ash in the Western lands until he found who was responsible.

It was another vow.

Kagura woke up slowly, her other senses weakly pulling together before the wind witch felt strong enough to open her eyes. First came sound, the quiet crackle of popping and snapping- like a fire?

'Oh no... no, please no...' Next came feeling, the wet, heavy sensation of her clothes clutching her body, the grass against one side of her face and pressed to her wrists and hands. She was on her side, and when her nose allowed her to smell all she caught at first was the stink of lake water and mud, then the crushed grass she had already felt- and something sour? She didn't... know what that smell was. After that it was the cool freshness of forest soil, and she felt a few rays of warm sunshine on her face and hair. Daylight.

After that it was pain, the second half of sensation waking up and causing a weak burn to move up and down the witch's leg, radiating out from a strong area of tension along her thigh. Her chest was completely numb, but still sore despite that. She could breathe, she was filthy, but it was okay. Kagura felt okay. Why... why was her gown hiked up? What was in her hands?

Finally, she opened her eyes, a groan building in her chest and finding life in her throat. The world was a blur of pale brown wood and the greenery of the forest- she was sleeping under a tree. But this wasn't where she'd landed. Closing her eyes again, Kagura tried to think back... the sensations that blossomed out of her memories were decidedly unpleasant.

'I was drowning, how did I end up here?' Who could have- what was in her hands?

Opening her eyes again, Kagura stopped breathing. It wasn't very large, or heavy, but resting between her hands on the grass was a round silver mirror- or was it silver? The rim looked almost like it was stained pink, the swirling, oily tint reminding her of the inside of a soap bubble. But it was the design she recognized; the sweeping clouds and hooked handles, the crest-like form of the metal as it cradled the reflective glass in its centre. Restored glass, real, not the few forgotten chips remaining embedded in that rim when it had still been ghostly white. Kanna's mirror, the one she'd lost when she entered the lake.

'Kanna?' Slowly trying to prop herself up on one arm, Kagura made her body move despite its sore protests. She put her weight on her right hip, her left leg was kept straight and exposed, the wind-witch ignoring her pale skin for now as she pressed her shoulder against the tree and held up the mirror. Out of habit and awareness, she kept from looking straight into it, tilting the metal and glass so she was looking at it in angles; seeing the reflection of the tree, the grass, the forest spreading around her. It was Kanna's mirror. It was the wrong colour, but it was hers.

"You are awake." Kagura found her fingers clutching the item tensely, the reflective surface facing away from her as the soft voice spoke up. She knew her eyes were wide and Kagura bit her bottom lip as she curled it into her mouth, trying to think of what to say, or how to come up with a response. Her mind was drawing blanks. "Do not move."

She had to turn her head slowly, ignoring the command that was delivered in such a meek voice. Years had past, years and years, since she had last heard that voice. Kagura couldn't even remember what the last thing Kanna said to her had been, she just knew it had been such a long time ago.

There she was, the mirror demon born from Naraku, the first of so many incarnations. At first all Kagura could notice was that Kanna's mirror was missing- but that was because she was holding it. The other demon was small, resembling a human child of no more than ten or twelve years, and dressed only a little differently than Kagura remembered her: a pale rose obi now wrapped around her waist. The addition of colour felt like a shock against the pure white of Kanna's small yukata, the clean lines flowing unbroken with her hair where the stark locks were pinned back in sections. The flowers in her hair, the only real decoration Kanna had ever worn, were also pink, as if someone had just breathed the colour over the soft round petals.

"Kanna...?" How?

"Do not move, there are no more bandages." Bandages? Kagura didn't understand what her sister meant until she followed Kanna's charcoal gaze down. Her gown had been pulled up and the white layer spread open to reveal her wounded left leg. The wind-witch only noticed now that her black sash had been untied around her waist and re-bound tightly up and down her chest, the multiple yards of cloth put to good use bracing her ribs and holding her torso together. It was alright that her green bodice had been opened, if it was Kanna's doing. If she shifted Kagura could feel her white gown moving freely as well: the cloth wrapped around her wound was actually her inner belt. If it was Kanna's doing then she was fine with the violation, and cloth could be washed.

Ignoring the disturbed state of her clothes for now, Kagura properly looked down at her leg: the entire limb was inflamed and swollen around the joints. It actually looked worse than it felt right now, and she didn't know why. There was black skin creeping out from under the bandages, dead flesh that her body would have to purge before it could be replaced. She would be scarred by this, but so long as she didn't lose the limb, that would be alright. Daring to feel around and touch her own hip, Kagura winced at the terrible pain: walking would be impossible so long as she was like this.

"What's that stink?" Kanna had turned away and the wind witch finally thought to look for where the fire was, the small pile of sticks burning as the mirror demon placed a few more branches on the tidy blaze. How long must it have taken Kanna to start the fire? The entire forest was soaked, Kagura could still taste the after-effects of the storm that had carried her away from her fight.

But she didn't want to think about that, think about him, not right now. She watched Kanna wander off and bring a few small pieces of dead wood over to rest and dry next to the fire, replacing the ones she'd just tossed onto the blaze. Kanna then opened one of her tiny hands and dropped a few crushed green leaves into... what was that?

"Is that... glass?" At first she had thought it was iron, but where would Kanna have found metal? Three glass legs had blackened from sitting over the fire, but gave no indication that they were going to crack or burst from the heat. Held at the top of the legs was a deep bowl, also glass, also black, and the source of that sour stink.

"You need medicine." Kagura almost spoke up when she watched the glass girl put her hands inside whatever was bubbling away, using her fingers to stir the thick mixture before lifting them out, unblemished, and sniffed the concoction. The girl's black eyes and pale face gave no indication of pain, or what she thought of the brew.

"Use a stick, Kanna-"

"It does not hurt." Yeah but it- oh, nevermind... She remembered enough to know it wasn't worth it to argue with the void. Instead, Kagura tried to make her body twist enough that she could rest her back against the tree, taking as deep a breath as her bruised ribs would allow and holding deep. Finally managing the manoeuvre, her entire body was throbbing as a result but there was satisfaction in having control. Kanna in the meantime had removed the glass from the fire with her bare hands, white fingers going black like the bowl and legs.

Had she changed then? It occurred to Kagura only when she saw Kanna take note of her black hands and rub some of the residue onto the grass at her feet. Kagura had changed when she found her new life; she was more wind than flesh, except for right now. Was Kanna now more mirror than girl? The question would have to wait, and the witch just sat there for a moment watching her sister scoop the green paste out of her little bowl. Taking note of the temperature, Kanna smeared the salve across both her palms, then stood and walked over to Kagura again.

There were no words, Kagura understood and made her leg twist around so Kanna could rub the reduced herbs into her inflamed skin. Kanna started down at her ankle, liberal with the paste as she rubbed it over the dancer's foot and then around the swollen joint. The medicine was still warm, almost hot, but as Kanna moved further and further up her leg, the skin began to cool and the pain abate. Kagura wanted to sigh in thanks, but the breath necessary for the sound was painful to draw.

"This is a Demon Lord's poison." Kanna stated, her voice so quiet that the witch had to make sure she was listening, helping move her gown aside so the mirror's small hands could reach her hip and side. "A dog demon." Kagura tried not to wince, but failed.

"Yes."

"Those are different." Kanna was standing again, having knelt to finish applying the medicine, and looking at Kagura's chest. The wind-witch followed her sister's gaze and nodded, reaching up to tug on the parted folds of her gown's neckline. She'd undone a portion of it while in the water, it had calmed her, bought time.

Because of where they were, Kagura had a hard time seeing Sesshoumaru's marks most of the time, but now that she was holding Kanna's mirror the sorceress took advantage. Between her shoulder and neck on each side, spreading down over her collar bone in smooth, even sweeps, were the deep maroon-red marks the Demon Lord had cut into her flesh. They had seared her skin for hours when he marked her, but the one that had caused her so much trouble, had in fact left her paralysed on the ground for hours waiting for the pain to pass, was the one in the centre of her chest, just above and between her breasts.

She wasn't quite sure what it was, a circle of yellow skin that had a small bit of sparkle to it in the light, like gold dust. This mark wasn't as clear to her as the slashes- but it burned the most, and reacted the strongest whenever she was near Sesshoumaru. It had been the most painful one for him to place on her and yet it was the least impressive. Kagura almost felt self-conscious of it now, and covered herself slowly, mindful that she not cause herself any additional pain. She had no reason to feel shy around Kanna, but she simply didn't want the marks shown off anymore, or at least not right now...

'I don't even know what I'm going to do...' Should she go back and find him? Was that the right thing to do? Or, a better question: was it what she wanted to do?

"Do not die, Kagura." Hmm? She realized she'd been ignoring Kanna, and resolved to fix that, looking back up at the mirror demon's black eyes. Eyes that weren't quite as open as before? As she watched her sister's face, Kanna's expression wasn't changing, but her black eyes drifted closed before opening again smoothly, then half-closed again, back to open- less open. She had never seen her sister tired before.

"Come, sit." Placing Kanna's mirror on the grass, Kagura patted the ground to her right side, the uninjured one, and watched as the other demon carefully picked her path around and slowly seated herself. Kanna's hands were still coated in herbs, black hand prints on her white dress. Kagura' clothes still filled with lake-mud, her loose hair tangled into a horrible, filthy mess, but she just placed her arm around her older sister's smaller body, and tugged a little until Kanna's white head came to rest gently on her shoulder. The child didn't resist her, and it was the first time Kagura ever felt the white girl's body relax.

'On my first day, I didn't have to do as much as you, sister.' So no, no questions for Kanna today, not now. There would be time and that moment wasn't now: she had pulled someone twice her size from the bottom of a lake, performed woodcraft the void had never been taught, guarded a charge and soothed injuries. There would be no interrogation to follow.

Today was the first day she felt the mirror girl sleep.

I decided I was either going to bring back Kanna, or that kite demon from RtW. Does anybody remember him? The guy from chapter 9 who carried Sesshou through the storm? I figured both would be too much, but I have some interactions planned for Kanna that the kite, while cute and funny, just can't compete with.

Although I was still looking forward to Kagura's familiar facing off against Sesshoumaru's servant. Snicker-snicker-glee.